


Break

by orphan_account



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caroline loses control after the loss of a loved one. Turns out, the person who comes to drag her back from the dark isn't at all who she thought it would be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break

All she could smell was blood—moist, warm, pulsing, scarlet… 

It filled her mind like smoke fills a closed room, throbbing in her head like a heavy drum.  The air seemed so dense it was almost difficult to breathe, and each breath burned like those of a desperate drowning girl finally giving in and inhaling lake water. 

This was the first time in Caroline’s vampire-life that she felt herself being completely ruled by the bloodlust; by that fanged beast she always worked so hard to keep under lock and key in the back of her mind. 

But what was the point anymore? 

What did she have to live for now?

Her evening had started off normally enough—with dinner at the grill with her mom.  Yesterday was her mother’s birthday, but of course the sheriff had to work—she ALWAYS had to work.  So they had postponed a day and had actually had a really nice eat-out supper, complete with chocolate peanut butter explosion sundaes for dessert.  Caroline was so appreciative of her mother’s warm-hearted acceptance of her existence as a vampire, and after all she had gone through with Tyler, Klaus, and even the Salvatores over the past few months she really needed her mother to vent with every now and then. 

But tonight the talk had been pleasant and vampires had barely even entered the conversation; instead they talked about Gossip Girl and clothes.  It was an enjoyable evening.

They left the Grill at around midnight, and that was when her life seemed to fall apart.

The semi came from nowhere; on a small road that Caroline wasn’t accustomed to seeing large trucks on.  Even with her keen vampire senses, she was too preoccupied in conversation with her mother to get much of a warning that it was going to veer into their lane until it was too late.  They had been talking about books, and how Caroline loved to read the classics even though her mother found them boring.  It all seemed so insubstantial now.

Caroline could only recall this part of the night in images, and even those with difficulty.  Broken glass. Starlight. Silence, except for her own screaming.  Her mother’s form was pinned motionless behind the wheel.  Caroline shouted in vain until her lungs felt ragged and torn, but she could tell right away that her mother was dead, she couldn’t hear her heartbeat, couldn’t see the gentle rise and fall of her chest breathing in the cold night air.

It was too much.  Too much.  TOO MUCH! 

So much loss and pain and blood in the last month, just too much for poor Caroline to bear.  Reaching into her mind, she found the switch, turned it off…and gave her body over to the night, over to the bloodlust.

Paint the world red.

           

The trucker was still lying in the cab, alive but unconscious; he became Caroline’s first victim as she pulled his form out of the cab and ripped her fangs deep into his jugular, tasting the bittersweet, life-giving taste of blood on her lips.  With the switch off, it seemed sinfully, unfathomably easy to forget about the dead thing that brought her into the world lying lifeless in the ruined car behind her. 

Caroline walked back towards the lights that marked the town of Mystic Falls.  She felt hungry and ready for more bloodshed.

She killed three more people on the edges of town—two high school students who, as a human, she knew casually; at one time she believed she was even a lab partner in chemistry class with the boy.  _What was his name?  Bradley?  Brady?_   They were walking arm in arm back to their houses from a party.  Both were wearing delightfully tacky holiday sweaters that on any other day would have made Caroline giggle. 

Unfortunately for them, today was today.  And today nothing was the same anymore.

They didn’t even have time to scream before she was on them, drinking and sucking away their lives.  It didn’t take long before they were spent and limp in her arms, but Caroline was insatiable and sobbing, feeling her sanity falling away and leaving her exposed out in the chilly winter wind.  But she couldn’t stop trying to somehow make the mental anguish stop, to drown out the way her soul was screaming at her.   

On the way to the grill, she found a liquor store, manned by only a single attendant, whom she quickly dispatched of, drinking him like she drank the others before turning to the store’s stock, her real goal.  Drowning herself in liquor seemed to be another effective way that Caroline could hide herself from the pain she was feeling crushed by, and she went through bottle after bottle—tequila, vodka, by the third bottle she didn’t even know what she was drinking.  Her vision was swimming, and it took all the effort she could muster to find her way across the street to the grill. 

She didn’t see people inside the glass windows; she saw heartbeats.  Heartbeats with faces.  Fangs bared and glimmering in the light of the moon and the stars, Caroline walked across the street and up to the doors, mind overcome with bloodlust.  Eyes so dark that they flared like polished onyx.

She almost had her hands on one of the door handles, when suddenly she was yanked around from behind with a force that pulled her feet up off the ground; Caroline didn’t even know who was holding her back but her instinct screamed at her to FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT and so she did, tooth and claw.  Her opponent was stronger, but she tried her best to squirm out of his grasp, shrieking as loudly as she could, not caring that she was causing a scene.  She felt eyes on her from everywhere.

Making no progress, she resorting to using her fangs and just gnashed out blindly until she found a soft spot.  Her expression calmed down a bit as she relished the taste of blood on her lips—not human blood, she recognized numbly from a place seemingly very far away.  But it was sweet.  And fulfilling.  So she just closed her eyes and sucked.

Klaus stiffened momentarily in surprise as he felt Caroline sink her fangs into his neck, but he didn’t pull her away.  Perhaps some of his blood would do her some good to chase away the worst of the bloodlust—it was frightening for him to see his Caroline this feral and undone.  He liked her better when she was bright and pure, his perfect antithesis.  A light that could burn away the dark.

Bloodsharing was personal, and it wasn’t a very frequent occurrence that Klaus would actually let another vampire drink from his neck—such an exposed and intimate location.  He felt vulnerable and exhilarated at the same time; a dazzling whirlwind of stimulation and pleasure. It was all he could do to stay on his feet, leaning back onto the building behind him for balance, unable to control the soft moans that escaped one-after-another from his lips.  She just wouldn’t let up; it went on minute after minute. He was so aroused, and his briefs were quickly becoming rather uncomfortable.

God, was he glad none of his siblings were watching this.  They would never have let him live it down.

After a few minutes, she had actually drank enough that he was beginning to feel light-headed, and he was forced to hesitantly pull her satiated face away from his neck, taking care to see how she would react.  This time, her eyes were a little clearer, and she looked at him with obvious recognition and more than a trace of guilt.  But also bliss and satiation; she had never felt so full in her life.

 

Klaus was expecting a slap, a curse, a swift kick to the groin as she would continue struggling, but what he didn’t expect was for her to burst into loud, wet, sobs as she came apart in his arms.  Caroline pressed her face onto his chest, dampening his black jacket with her salty tears.  Lost, alone, and gripping on to whatever she could grasp.  Hell, she probably would have even clung to Damon if he was the one in front of her.

The bloodlust gradually left Caroline’s eyes for no other reason than that her veins were filled to bursting; she didn’t think she could drink another drop of blood if she had to.  And her emotions were just as overflowing; she had to emote, she had to let out some of the rage and feeling or else she would be drowning in it. 

She understood that it was **Klaus** who stood in front of her, and that in many ways Klaus was to blame for so much of this heartache—for the murder of Tyler’s mother, for Tyler leaving Mystic Falls, for so much death, despair, and bloodshed.  Everything he touches dies.  Darkness shrouds him like a cloak. 

But as much as she despised Klaus, he was the one who was standing in front of her now—the only one who came to pull her back from the brink she was prepared to leap off of to her death.  Where was Elena?  Where was Stefan?

_Where was God tonight?_

“I wish you would kill me,” Caroline manages to voice.  “I feel like I deserve it.”

His answering voice is calm and quiet.  “Hush now, Caroline, tears don’t suit you well.  I’m sure you will live to be regretting those words once your head clears.   And besides, I could never kill you.” 

And this makes Caroline break up even more because she knows he’s telling the truth.

 

 

 

Elena was having an absolutely mind-blowing dream.  Her body glistened under the moonlight, lounging under the stars in a warm, tropical garden. Her keen ears could hear the quiet patter of waves stepping forwards and backwards in the eternal dance against the shoreline.  The air around her was pregnant with the heavy odors of primrose, angel’s trumpet, and moonflower, but Elena wasn’t focusing on those senses—she was focusing on the two vampires pleasuring her body. 

Damon Salvatore, his long hair damp and luscious, straddled her from the front, his erection sliding up against her belly; while Stefan—the other brother, leaned against her from behind, suckling gently on the side of her neck—bloodsharing.  Damon was just about to enter her when she was rudely interrupted from her slumber by the annoying ring of her cell phone.  God, could the timing be any worse??  Apparently even in her dreams she was cockblocked.

She usually turned the volume on her phone off at night—and who calls at 4:00 am anyways, unless it was an emergency?  She glanced at the phone quickly before answering it, expecting it to be Stefan (or Damon, she added, before dismissing the painful thought).  It was a number she didn’t recognize, but Elena answered anyways.

“This is Elena, right?” said a voice she didn’t quite recognize, though she was sure it sounded familiar.

“Uh, yeah.  Who is this?”

“I’m just your friendly neighborhood do-gooder trying to prevent problems before they start.  Who do you think it is, dear?  This is Kol, dear Elena!  Don’t you recognize my sexy-as-fuck voice?  And I just wanted to warn you that my bastard-dog of a brother just drug in little pretty Barbie-doll Miss Mystic Falls up to his room—she seemed drunk and upset.  Just thought I’d notify you and your friends.  Not that I’m trying to cause family drama or anything”

Elena rolled her eyes and hung up on him—but didn’t go back to bed.  She was worried about Caroline, and she couldn’t get back to sleep even if she wanted to.  So she picked up the phone and tried to make some more phone calls.

 

 

The next few minutes were mostly a hazy blank spot in Caroline’s memory. 

She didn’t really remember that Klaus had ended up carrying her back to his SUV; between the blood high and the alcohol, she kept stumbling every few steps, black spots dancing uninvited through her vision.  He finally gave up trying to let her find her own legs and just scooped her up with his stronger-than-they-look arms.

She couldn’t recall the way his hands would tighten subconsciously around her every time Klaus felt her warm breath on his neck or could smell the flowery scent of her shampoo ghosting his nose.   Nor could Caroline remember how on edge he seemed—the beat of his heart accelerated to an almost human pace under her fingers.

She had no clue how hard of a struggle it was for him to get her home uneventfully. 

Klaus knew right after it happened that he had let her drink too much to be safe.  After a few seconds of woosiness not unlike a post-climatic sexual high, the hunger had reared up its ugly head and the hybrid (typically a practiced master of exercising self control when necessary) found himself fighting the urge to tear into her pretty little throat and drink his fill. 

God, he felt like he was starving.  Like he had to quench his thirst right at that moment or else he was going to collapse with his veins shriveled.  Totally not a sensation he was used to.  And Caroline smelled so delicious in his arms; her blood a delectable nectar just waiting to be tapped by his expert lips.  Isn’t that what he wanted, anyways?

Fuck this.  He finally had a legitimate chance to get with her and damn it if he was going to let something as trivial as blood lust get in the way.  It would have to wait.

His eyes shone yellow during the entire drive back to the Mikaelson manor, but his fangs never pierced her skin. 

She would never know how hard-fought a victory this was for him.

 

 

Caroline **did** remember the tears, as she spent the time in his passenger seat sobbing loudly without being sure why.  For her mom?  For the loss of her own innocence?  For the people she’d killed?  For failing Tyler?  For falling so far that she needed to be rescued by the devil?

 

After that, the next thing she really could recall clearly was waking up with an extreme hangover, deeply disoriented; not sure where she was or what time it was until the memories all came rushing back one after another—like horrible demonic crows coming back to roost in her tangled mind.  Crows made her think of Damon.  She shivered.

Caroline’s clothes still stank of blood that was not hers, and she was lying under the covers, cozily tucked under the silk sheets on a large bed in—was she in Klaus’s bedroom?  She thought so.  She had never been in his bedroom before, but the artwork expertly arrayed on the walls and the classic elegance of the furniture composition seemed to scream out his name.

The man in question was nowhere to be seen however; though a scrawled note in his elegant script graced the table to her side, along with a nightgown for her to change into.

_Dearest Caroline:_

_Please feel welcome to change clothes and freshen up as you see fit; my bathroom is on the right.  Use what you’d like—what’s mine is yours.   I had to take care of a pressing matter, and will be back shortly.  Unfortunately my brother Kol is home—so I recommend not to do anything silly; I’ve locked you in for your own protection.  I’ll be back soon._

_\--Klaus_

 

For a few moments Caroline just sat on his bed trying to bite back her fury.  He locked her in! All of a sudden it felt like she’d been kidnapped.  Where was her cell phone?  Should she call for help?  What was going on?  She took a deep breath in and then out, trying to quell the rising panic in her gut.

It just seemed so out-of-character for Klaus to finally manage to drag her into his bedroom and then not be up in her face trying to seduce her when she woke up.  Caroline was almost worried about him, was almost disappointed by his unexpected absence.  Did something happen?  Did Damon or Stefan do something rash to try to save her from Klaus’s grasp?  Her thoughts raced on a thousand miles per minute.

She needn’t have fretted.  Caroline had barely stripped from the bloodied jumper that she had worn out to dinner with her mom and into the elegant nightgown Klaus had left out for her when the hybrid forced open the door the an ungraceful thud, a look of anger and concern melting on his face when he saw his beautiful Caroline up and about.  She half-expected him to be dressed suit-and-tie, but his outfit was casual—a gray hoodie and jeans and of course a few of those strange necklaces he often wore.  He looked relaxed and content.

She was going to ask him where he had been off to, but the question died on her lips when he approached her and the answer was immediately obvious to her vampire senses.

The heavy, metallic scent of blood was unmistakable on Klaus’s lips, evidence of his recent feed.  Caroline remembered guiltily how they had unwittingly blood-shared the night before while she was lost in the fog of rage; how he had very nearly let her drain him.  No wonder Klaus needed a blood fix; he must have been starving.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered whom he had just eaten.

 

“You look much better,” Klaus said simply, holding her gaze with his powerful blue eyes. 

“I don’t feel better,” she replied, trying to sound spiteful.  It was true.  Her heightened vampire emotions of grief and guilt were swirling within her, threatening to tear down the psychological levees that usually kept Caroline so tranquil and happy.  At least she was holding back the tears (for now).  “Why did you stop me, anyways?  Aren’t you a fan of bloodshed?” 

He ignored her question and continued speaking as if he hadn’t heard her. 

“You’re not alone, love,” Klaus said, speaking intimately while settling next to her on the bed, the gentle curve of his back leaning gracefully onto the headboard. 

“Come here; let me hold you.”

Caroline didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help herself; it was just too painful to be alone. 

And now the uninvited tears came, heavy and wet, spilling on the fabric of his shirt as she snuggled into his protective embrace.  She could feel the gentle thump of his heart under her cheek and the weight of his right hand stroking the curls of her hair.  He smelled pleasant, like old parchment and wine, exactly how she would have imagined a thousand-year-old vampire to smell.

“Why does everyone I love always leave me?” Caroline murmured quietly through her tears.  “I’m not doing anything wrong.  My parents, first my dad, and now my m-m-mom...  And Tyler.  You chased Tyler away.  If you really love me, why would you make Tyler leave?  He was my everything, Klaus!  My everything!  And you ruined him.”  And at that, she exploded into a fresh volley of tears until he stopped the onslaught by grasping her head with his hand under her chin, bringing her lips forward in a frenzied kiss.

At first, Caroline tried to pull back, making an awkward little squeaking noise in surprise as his tongue parted her lips hungrily.  But as soon as she made the decision to just fuck it and enjoy his taste in her mouth, he was the one pulling back, his breath coming in quick, excited gasps.  She was amazed at the effect she had on him.

“Fine, Caroline, just fine.  You’re here in my bed—I rescued you--, but I guess if you want to talk about Tyler, we’ll talk about Tyler.  I’m all ears.”

Klaus was angry, and his voice had that gruff, animalistic tone he always used when he was mad.  She supposed she should be scared, but she really couldn’t bring herself to be.  Still, Caroline couldn’t find words to say in response, so she just waited in silence until he continued, still trying to quell her rapidly pounding heart.

“You see,” Klaus finally tittered uncomfortably, carefully searching for the right words to say what he wanted without setting her off. 

“The thing is, that even people like me, we do things sometimes that we don’t have to do.  I was furious, Caroline, I felt betrayed and you understand how heightened our emotions can get.  I didn’t have to kill Tyler’s mother, but I did it anyways, and I enjoyed it at the time; I’m not going to lie.  This is me being **honest** , Caroline.  I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a liar.  If you want me to say I’m sorry, I guess that’s as close to an apology as you are going to get.  I’m sorry that I took it out on her instead of going straight to Tyler himself.  But love, you have to understand that the only reason I held back from murdering his pathetic, rebellious ass was because of you, dear.  I promised myself not to hurt you.  I had never imagined he would run away like this with his tail between his legs; because that hurt you even worse, didn’t it?  Didn’t it, Caroline?  Would you have rather I killed him?” 

He was practically whispering at the end of his monologue, but his eyes glistened brightly and Caroline could practically smell the passion burning on his breath.

She should have slapped him.

Slapped him hard for speaking about Tyler like that.  He had no right. 

It didn’t stop his words from stinging, though.  Klaus, as always, had known exactly what to say and had dug deep enough to hit a nerve that really hurt.

He had no idea how badly Tyler’s disappearance had wrecked her.  For weeks she had feared his death!  But when she had finally received texts that he had resurfaced with some of his extended family (and Hayley, she thought with spite) in Georgia, Caroline found that the pain of being left alone and out of the loop was even more bitter than having to mourn a death.  Why did Tyler leave all of a sudden?  What did she do wrong to warrant being left behind in Mystic Falls without him? All she knew is that one day Tyler was at the Grill chumming with Matt and Jeremy just like normal and then the next he was gone like dust scattered in the wind.  His cell phone disconnected, his tracks wiped clean.  No one knew where he went.  Caroline knew he had been hurting after the murder of his mother but had not anticipated anything like this; how had she been so blind?  Somehow she felt like it was her failure too, and she felt guilty for not comforting Tyler more adequately. 

Somewhere in the sick, twisted back of her mind, Caroline knew Klaus was right. 

She would rather have seen Tyler dead than have him just leave her without saying goodbye.  It caused her physical pain to admit it, but she knew in the depths of her soul it was (unfortunately) the truth.

 

Somehow as Klaus was speaking one of his hands had worked its way up underneath Caroline’s nightgown and was resting on her stomach. 

Caroline hadn’t noticed when it happened—apparently she had been too caught up in his words—but now the skin-to-skin contact was all she could think about. 

Anything to drown out the memories of her dead Mom’s face staring up at her from her wrecked car.

Of seeing her father throw away his future so he wouldn’t become like her. 

Of running to her cell phone every time it rang in the far-fetched hope that Tyler was finally calling her back.

Of trying to convince herself she wanted nothing to do with Klaus.

 

Grief sex was healthy.  Tyler had taught her that.

Hot original hybrid grief sex had to be better yet.

 

 

Caroline had just begun to guide his hand further down her flat belly when Klaus sensed her intentions and jumped her, pinning her underneath his strong body with experienced grace. 

His lips parted hers in an instant, kissing her zealously, needily.  Finally accepting his advances was easier than Caroline could have hoped; she needed a distraction, and what was one more thing to feel guilty for? 

At least she wasn’t killing anyone this time.

His tongue dominated her own, exploring the entirety of her mouth, leaving her with no secrets.  She mentally decided then and there that it would be no good to draw comparisons between her previous boyfriends and Mr. Original Hybrid (but if she did, she would describe Matt as a sweeter kisser, Tyler more energetic, Klaus more thorough). 

She was glad that he took his time ravishing her mouth before his soft lips moved down her jawline and finally to her neck, making her tremble with each carefully measured lick.  Klaus hesitated at a spot on her neck where he found her pulse point; the rush of blood throbbing erotically every few seconds, so close to his sensitive mouth.  Caroline predicted his intentions, but he didn’t bother to warn her before his eyes rapidly changed to yellow and he bit down, moaning softly as he tasted her blood for the first time.

Caroline gasped lustfully as she felt her blood being drawn—it was a weird, kinky kind of pleasure, straddling the narrow border between pain and exhilaration.  She felt Klaus continuing to suckle as he raised his own wrist to her lips, letting her bite down as well to complete the circuit.  They stayed that way for at least a full minute, each drinking from the other.  It seemed like so much more than a physical connection; bloodplay was never part of the equation with her previous lovers, so this was new and exciting, and Caroline was overcome by the way it felt their minds were almost touching somehow.

When Klaus finally raised his head from her neck, he had her nightgown off and on the floor in an instant. He wasted no time before turning the attention of his capable lips to the soft lumps of her breasts.  Caroline arched up into him without being able to form coherent thought.

Her sex was wet with need.  God, she didn’t know how much longer she could bear with this foreplay without being driven mad.

When his lips finally departed her second nipple—he left it sensitive and erect after all the gentle suckling and pinching—Klaus trailed down the tender flesh of her stomach before reaching the tops of her pink panties (the only remnants of her clothes), which quickly joined the nightgown on the floor. 

Caroline twisted on the bed, startled and simply not knowing what noise to make when she felt his mouth latch lovingly on to her clit, and his tongue start to stroke her in the most intimate of places.   A thousand years of experience obviously had taught him well how to pleasure a woman, and Caroline was soon soaring on a higher plane of bliss than she knew existed.

“Oh, Klaus.. Klaus.., fuck…” she mewed, as she clenched the tight curls of his hair in her fingers, needing something to grasp on to just to help her hold her composure as she was approaching what she knew was going to be a massive climax.  Caroline could tell she was close when she felt that familiar warm build-up brewing in her gut and her thighs starting to shake helplessly.  When she came it ripped through her like lightning, but Klaus was there working her through it and licking her clean. 

His hair mussed and wild, Klaus looked up at her adoringly; she had no idea how much it meant to him to hear her crooning his name so longingly like that.  He was finally possessing her.  Making come true all those naughty dreams in which he would bring her to cry his name.  Her taste was painted all over his lips and he felt nearly mad with desire; his erection strained agonizingly in his jeans.  He wanted to claim her right now, roughly, violently, passionately, but was trying for her sake to be gentle and sensuous.  Because he was afraid she would hate him if he behaved too much like the animal he was.

After taking just a moment to catch her breath and come down from her post-release high, Caroline switched positions and straddled Klaus, pinning him back against the headboard of his bead.  She kissed him again, deeply, thoroughly— (trying to imitate his own kissing style) and she could taste herself on his breath—just another turn on.  It took him a moment to kiss back, and when he did it seemed half-hearted; he was too preoccupied with the sensations going on elsewhere in his body to properly attend to Caroline’s mouth. 

With his urgent guidance, her hands finally went to his clothes.  For Klaus, it seemed that they couldn’t move fast enough as first his hoodie and shirt and finally his jeans and briefs joined her nightgown on the floor.  The necklaces of course stayed on.

The feel of skin-on-skin was delicious. 

Honestly, Caroline wanted to let her hands linger on the perfect musculature of his chest, exploring every well-chiseled inch with her tongue, but she knew Klaus was on edge and needed a release (she wondered how long it had been since he’d last been laid), and she had every intention of returning the favor he had just done for her.  So instead, as soon as his briefs were off, she positioned her hands delicately at the base of his erect cock, trying to ignore the way he gasped when she began to stroke him.

Up to this point, Klaus had been surprisingly quiet during their exploits, as if entranced so deeply with Caroline’s lovely beauty that he didn’t want to spoil the magic in the air between them by speaking.  The only audible evidence of his arousal had been his heavy, eager breathing.

 But in reality, he knew his silence was driven by his need to be the one controlling their encounter, and he had no intentions of showing young Caroline just how helplessly out-of-control she made him feel.  After all, he was the Big Bad Original Hybrid, and the Original Hybrid demanded respect.  Moaning and writhing like a common whore underneath her wasn’t going to help at all in that regard.

Which was all a good enough idea, except that his carefully guarded control totally went out the window as soon as her tongue grazed the head of his erection. 

As she rhythmically licked, kissed, and sucked, occasionally rubbing her cheek or her teeth against him playfully, Klaus’s heavy breathing quickly took on a more voiced quality until he was moaning wantonly, totally beyond care.  Caroline was too occupied to see his expression—his head tipped back against the pillow and his normally cold blue eyes lidded and glazed over with shameless lust.  A thin filament of saliva hung from the edge of his mouth. But if she had seen it—how would she have reacted?  She was bringing the most powerful creature on the planet to (perhaps) the highest plateau of physical pleasure he had ever reached—what massive power she held over him!

“Oh God, God……. Caroline, lovely…just don’t stop. Don’t…don’t stop.  Oh, that feels so, so…good,” he managed to croon, his voice gravelly and nearly unrecognizable.  This was followed abruptly by an incoherent litany of “fuck, Caroline”s, more impossible-to-understand whimpering that she thought was an attempt at words (maybe not English?), the word “sweetheart” repeated a handful of times, several wolf-like growls, and his hands twisting ever tighter in the waterfall of her blonde curls, keeping her anchored there.   Caroline had to extend an arm out to steady his hips against the bed because, by this point, he was mindlessly thrusting up against her, so completely undone and desperate for release.  She could taste the salty tang of pre-come on her lips now, and knew he was very close.  Still, she continued her ministrations—a little more cautiously now—trying to lead him up as close to the edge as she could without sending him over.  It was a fine line she was trying to tiptoe.

Caroline made the tough decision to pull away when she could feel him began to tense up, and the movements of his hips against her arm became erratic, deviating from the measured pulse he had been keeping.   She knew he was close enough.

Klaus tensed up instantly at the loss, first disappointment and then anger flashing in his suddenly-very-alert blue eyes as he felt his climax slipping away again. 

Klaus wanted nothing more than to strike her or strangle her or both for postponing his release; HOW DARE SHE; because he had been so close to getting what he needed! 

Just who did she think he was that she could mess with him like this?

And he would have done just that; hurt her or forced her or at least threatened her with violence, if Caroline hadn’t made a point of theatrically sighing as she lay down once again on her back, her hands unconsciously circling her own breasts.  Her beauty halted his rage (at least temporarily).

She looked up at him.  Her blue eyes locked with his blue eyes for a second, and in them he saw reflected her own desires, her own needs.  A little piece of her soul was bared open now to him, and she only hoped he would treat it well.

“Please take me,” Caroline whispered.  Her voice was like that careful call of a small bird, singing its tiny song out in the chaotic, stormy landscape that was the world.  And Klaus, the expert raptor, was helpless to fight his instincts that cried out to him to have her, to chase her, to devour her.

He was on her in less than a heartbeat.

 

Emotionally, allowing big bad Klaus to have his way with her seemed so very wrong; how was it possible that physically it could feel so perfect?  He fit into her too flawlessly, and his movements inside her were well-paced; fast yet gentle.  He knew what he was doing.  She could tell he was trying to give her exactly what she wanted while not compromising his own pleasure, and it was working, her body was responding.  She had already come apart around him once, and was now approaching her second as he pumped feverishly into her, hitting the right spot nearly every time. 

It was just unfair to compare Tyler to…this. 

Both Klaus and Caroline were lost beyond words.

Their bodies did the talking for them.

Caroline was honestly surprised he had lasted this long, knowing how close to release he had been just a short while before.  But he was close again now, and from the way he was shaking, she could tell it was going to be huge when he finally did come.  She pulled his head close to her own and kissed his ear, filling it with breathy whispers that was all her voice could produce at the time—trying to let him know that it was alright, he could fall; she was ready to come along with him when he did.

Instictinvely Caroline found herself grasping tightly onto his necklaces when they both came—Klaus first, making a sound that was decidedly more wolfish than human; she following him, her lips parting in a blissful moan.  For a moment, everything else was forgotten, and it was just the two of them making each other whole. 

She didn’t want to leave his arms.  Out there was a horrible world of absent boyfriends and dead parents.  Here she was safe.  He would protect her.

 

Caroline woke up a while later—she had no idea how much time had passed since she had allowed Klaus to flesh out his fantasies, but she could tell from the light pouring through the window that it was during daylight hours.  He lay next to her; naked, content, and sound asleep—this she tested by planting a kiss on his cheek to see if she got a reaction.  Obviously she had worn him out; this thought pleased her more than it should.  The only sound in the room was his quiet breathing.

She was thirsty.  She no longer really felt hung over, but God could she use some fresh water (ideally with ice), to soothe her dry throat.

Caroline had just gotten dressed and put her nightgown back on, and was contemplating whether or not to try to sneak out of the room to explore their house a little and try to find the kitchen (She had already forgotten Klaus’s warnings about his psychopathic younger brother)—when someone knocked at his door, startling her half to death.  Slowly the latch clicked, and the door began to inch open.

Klaus didn’t stir.  She wondered for a panicked moment whether or not she should wake him, until she saw with surprise who it was that had come to visit.

Elena Gilbert stood at the doorway to Klaus Mikaelson’s bedroom, eyes wide with honest concern as she took in the scene before her.

Elena!

Caroline put a finger to her lips to try to shush her friend, pointing franticly to Klaus’s still form under the covers.  She didn’t want her friend getting hurt, and while Klaus probably wouldn’t kill Elena (she WAS the precious doppelganger, after all), she didn’t think he’d have any qualms about messing her up a bit. 

 Caroline tiptoed out of the room to join her friend in the hallway.

“What are you doing here?” Caroline said frantically.  She wondered if her and the Salvatores were coming to try and put her to justice, what with all the murders she had unwittingly committed the previous night.  Or if they were coming to try to harm Klaus (which was probably more likely)—something else she was definitely not up for at the moment.  Nothing boded well.

“Are you alright?” asked Elena, and Caroline was pleasantly surprised to see that the concern in her voice was genuine.  “Kol called me and said you were with Klaus.  Did he hurt you?  I thought you might need saving.”

Caroline made eye contact with Elena, not sure how her friend would take this.  Her and Elena had not gotten along particularly well as of late.

“No,” she whispered.  “He saved me.”

From the low-cut nightgown Caroline was wearing to the mussed up way her hair danced around her head, Elena knew immediately what had transpired.  She swallowed, thinking deeply before searching for enough grace to put out a decent answer.  Elena could read the pain and confusion in Caroline’s eyes, she could recognize it so well because she was so used to seeing it in her own.  Self-doubt.  Moral confusion.  She felt so sorry for Caroline because she could emphasize with her on such a deep level.

“It’s not my place to judge who you sleep with, Caroline,” Elena answered in her most comforting voice, trying to find a smile with which to reassure her friend.  The Gilbert girl extended her arms forward now, embracing Caroline in a tight hug as the blonde began to cry, so happy that Elena was there, that she was her friend, and that she understood.

“And I’m so sorry I thought so badly of you for being with Damon,” responded Caroline between sobs, clutching her friend tightly.     

 

Klaus stirred when Caroline crawled back into bed beside him; he lazily rested his head on her breast, a gentle purr of satisfaction emanating from his throat. 

He wondered how long it would take before she hated him again.

He knew she would.

Because, say as many nice things as he would, Klaus Mikaelson was still a liar.  He couldn’t help it—it was just his nature.

It was the only way he seemed able to manage anything in life.  To make progress with Caroline, to try to restore some unity to his broken family.

Lying had become his forte.

Tyler Lockwood wasn’t in Georgia, chumming it up with Hayley and some long lost relatives. No, his headless body was somewhere out in the woods by the interstate on the south side of town; his head had been incinerated in the fireplace of his mansion.  The texts had all been part of an elaborate ruse to make Caroline think Tyler was still alive.  Alive and living somewhere without her. 

Because killing Carol Lockwood just hadn’t been enough.

So when Caroline started gently stroking his mussed up sex hair, it took everything he had to try to fight back tears.


End file.
